Poetry of June
My brain has been blank since the 24th of May,
My mom still asks about you; she doesn't know,
I've learnt my lesson about drinking and thinking about you,
and June couldn't go by any slower than it is right now.
If there were a way for you to see yourself in the ways that I see you,
you wouldn’t have a doubt in your mind as to why I can’t let you go.
I can't think of anything but you,
my head is full of you,
my heart is full of you,
I still look for some form of you in everyone I meet, every small gesture and the smell of cigarettes takes me back to you and locks me in a cage where I’m only allowed to think about you.
Take a kiss from me. In fact, steal them all, because there will never be another set of lips I want to ever grace mine once more. I want to be who I was before you - Before I knew what teas you liked and before I knew how you hate winter because of seasonal depression. When I (we) listen to music and look at art I am looking through the lens we once shared. I processed your mind into my heart so fast that it has become a part of my being.
I am you but you are not me.
Please let me listen to music without your being in it, please let allow me to look at art without your being in it.
My door is one that is closed but not locked; if you came knocking I’d open it within seconds with warm pie in my arms and a smile on my face just like you’d want it. Because I miss you. And I understand those words are overused again and again, but I’m throwing a tantrum to tell the world that I truly do. I do so much. Over. And over again.
